Essays

The only color in the landscape that even approaches vivid is the dark emerald of the evergreens on the hillside. […]

Even though dawn is less than an hour away, it is black dark, clear and cold, the stars vibrant crystal

It was an unseasonably warm November day, and my friend and I were walking her two dogs wearing only long

It’s well into autumn, but it’s been warm with no frost yet, so it’s still August as far as some

The yellowing aspens and orange underbrush announce fall, and the crisp, clean, airless air is too dry and thin to

“You’re living in your own private Idaho”“Private Idaho,” The B-52s When the first chills of September sidle in, the Grand

The pinyon and juniper are thick and deep around me, glowing with health after a summer full of rainy days.

It is the kind of day photographers and hikers live for. I tramp among the lush undergrowth beneath a cobalt

It’s the heart of summer and there is a nest of baby robins high in the Engelmann spruce tree in